


Post-Game

by cliniclyInsane189



Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Mild Blood, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliniclyInsane189/pseuds/cliniclyInsane189
Summary: Phoenix has a bit of a crappy time following the events of the Decision Game(Follow-up to ~50% of Day 22 (Glitch))
Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947934
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Post-Game

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Whumptober 2020 Day 26 - ‘If you thought the head trauma was bad…’ - **Migraine** | Concussion | Blindness  
> -Note - includes mild bleeding from eyes.  
> -Note 2 - Phi is barely in this, sorry

Phoenix manages to keep it together long enough for a plane to come and retrieve them, the survivors of the Decision Game, and their prisoner from the middle of the fucking Nevada desert. Then, and only then, does the weight of a decade-plus long, fucked-up chess game of a mission (against their now heavily sedated prisoner)  _ and _ the multiple (frequently horrible) potential outcomes of the game they were just forced to witness come crashing down upon them. In the form of the worst migraine they’ve ever had in their life. They have a tendency to them after accessing the Morphogenic Field, after using their… other… ability, and after being drugged (and possibly hit over the head, too, at that). Combining all three (or possibly four) of those things has granted them the mother-fucking migraine to end all migraines. It’s so bad that they are beginning to regret their continued consciousness. Or alive-ness.

They sit at the front of the plane - as far away from the prisoner transport section as they can - but that doesn’t stop the noise of the engines and the other passengers and the bright overhead lights and even the faint smell of bleach from the cleaning supplies from pressing down against them like a ton of bricks. A ton, not a tonne. And a British ton, not an American.

Fuck, they were losing it, weren’t they, arguing semantics in their own head while fighting off the urge to throw up. They don’t even dare move to try and make it to the bathroom - they’re pretty sure they won’t make it there.

Out of the other passengers, Phi is sat the closest. This is somewhat of a relief, as she is quiet and also won’t try and offer help that isn’t wanted. Not that Phoenix doesn’t want help - they’d actually greatly appreciate it - but not from a total stranger and  _ certainly _ not from a civilian that they’re technically responsible for. No, if they’re to accept help from anyone, it will be from a member of their team. Hopefully in the form of very strong migraine medication or, failing that, just an antiemetic. If they recall correctly, Sapir is currently on the line to Medical and trying to find out which meds have bad reactions to (a probable overdose of) Soporil.

Wonderful. All they need to do now is wait until Sapir has received an answer, then hold out until they get back to HQ, at which point they can temporarily pawn the whole mess off onto their team and go and lie down in a dark room somewhere.

They bring a hand to their head, their fingertips coming away damp as they brush past their eyes.

Ugh, not again.

They dab at their eyes with a tissue, the paper coming away red, and accept the mirrored sunglasses Sapir hastily shoves into their hands. It wouldn’t do for anyone to catch sight of  _ that _ particular side effect, not when so few of the players trust them.

No matter.

Things will work out. All they have to do is hold on a bit longer.

Just a bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Will the aliases ever cease?  
>  ~~The answer is no~~  
>  -  
> Hope you enjoyed!!


End file.
